


Old wounds that do heal

by Bittersweet_World



Category: El Laberinto del Fauno | Pan's Labyrinth (2006)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet_World/pseuds/Bittersweet_World
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Ofelia and Vidal didn't die?<br/>An intense story about the forbidden passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old wounds that do heal

Major Vidal entered his study. With a spry step he walked to the desk and poured himself whisky. But his hand with the glass managed only to go halfway, when the door opened again.

‘I’ll never ever go to a ball again!’ said a young brunette in an elegant green dress.

Annoyed officer sighed, put down the glass and sat in the desk chair. That way he could see the girl properly: Her charcoal black hair, loosely braided, was decorated with small, artificial flowers. The dark green dress gently highlighted her feminine figure, yet didn’t show too much of her skin.

‘You’re seventeen. When your mother died I didn’t leave you at some orphanage. I paid for your schools and living. But I don’t plan doing it for eternity, so you have to get married. The sooner you make proper contacts the better.’

‘No wonder they keep mistaking me for your daughter’ she approached the desk, walked around it and moved her hand through his arm to finally stand behind the man and gently massage his shoulders.

Major Vidal laid back, closed eyes and exhaled. This was really tiresome evening. Those lazy officers recounting their silly war stories and thinking they’re funny. Or their wives gossiping about everything, including himself and his relation to Ofelia. It already was complicated enough, he didn’t need anyone to poke their noses into what they cannot understand.

He wanted to get rid of the girl. He truly did. Why else he would have shot her? She conspired with the reds, poisoned him, and tried to kidnap his baby son. That would have been far enough reason to kill anybody. But that day, at that moment he has been barely conscious. All he could do was to run into the forest and wait for the raid to end. Not to save himself. No, if he could, he would have fought with his soldiers and died proud, as his own father. But he had to save his son.

When the morning came he felt much better. The baby, that he was clenching in his arms tightly even during sleep in a forest cave, gurgled silently. Vidal looked around. There were no signs of anyone. That was a good thing, but the baby needed food and change. It was a miracle the boy behaved so calmly during that turmoil of the last night. Otherwise they both would have been probably already dead. The officer cautiously and slowly started walking towards the mill. Every rustling made his heart bump. When he finally could see the buildings, he observed them for at least half of an hour. But nothing moved. Some fires were still burning, some uniformed bodies were laying motionlessly. He approached the building from the back and entered through the kitchen, listening.

‘Captain…’

Vidal almost jumped and extended his arm with a pistol in the direction he had heard the voice from. It was one of his soldiers, curled between the kitchen cupboards. By the way he was clenching his uniform and how blood was flowing Vidal could tell the man was shot in the lung. The freshly made father put down his hand.

‘Is anyone else here?’ Vidal whispered.

‘I don’t… think so’ talking seemed tough to the young private. His lips were deadly purple, but his other lung must have been intact, since he didn’t seem to worsen. ‘I’ve spent here several hours… but I haven’t… heard anyone for… at least three…’

The mill turned out to be really reds-free. Two other soldiers managed to save their lives through escape to the forest, two more were found unconscious in some hard to find places. But all of the rations, medication, even furniture and their personal things have been scavenged.

Vidal was tending to the one of the unconscious men, who had a huge bloody wound on the head, but was breathing regularly, when the other two who could walk brought Ofelia. The captain, alarmed, straightened up. But the others looked really happy.

‘She’s breathing. What cruel monsters could shoot such a nice girl? But now she’ll be alright’ they said and placed her on a blanket on the floor. They had no idea what had happened. The officer wanted to take his gun and shoot her dead in that very moment. But he couldn’t do it. His men were tired, wounded and with low morale. The girl most likely wouldn’t survive either way. So why lose a bullet over something that might make his soldiers even worse?

‘Captain Vidal, your daughter will be fine. The bullet missed all of the important organs. But lost much blood…’ said the paramedic that came with the reinforcements.

‘She is not my daughter’ the officer answered firmly.

‘Excuse me?’ asked surprised man wondering who might be the girl then.

‘She is my wife’s. I didn’t adopt her.’

They just shrugged and took her to the military hospital, as they would have done with anyone, who was from a soldier’s family.

When she woke up she didn’t remember how she got shot. The doctors said that might be because of the shock. But she had huge gaps in her memory about the whole stay at the mill. For example she could tell precisely how Carmen’s room looked. But when asked about the bowl of rotten milk under the bed, she just frowned with confusion. This actually was good. Not all of his superiors would be pleased with him shooting a ten years old girl. Even knowing what she had done. Then again, she didn’t exactly remember half of it. So in his report Vidal described everything truthfully. Everything except that one minor detail. Everybody assumed it must have been the reds who wounded Ofelia.

The captain has been always very aware of what’s proper, and what’s not. He made sure not to do anything that people could see and judge as the latter. Leaving a weakened child at an orphanage, when he wasn’t in such a bad economic situation, was one of those things. Especially because of the war all of the institutions were overflowing with unwanted, abandoned or orphaned. But since even the girl’s memory loss didn’t temper their mutual aversion, he sent her to a boarding school for girls. A one, where many of his colleagues’ daughters were receiving proper education.

‘Ouch!’ major Vidal clenched his left shoulder from pain.

Ofelia moved back her hands instantly. ‘Sorry… It’s that old wound, isn’t it?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but it’s alright’ he answered and returned to his previous position and unbuttoned the top of his uniform. ‘It doesn’t normally hurt, just don’t get so much down.’

‘Alright’ she smiled and put her hands gently on Vidal’s shoulders again.

Seven years ago that would have been unthinkable. The event that made them actually see each other as human beings happened four years after Ofelia had lost her mother.

Vidal’s son’s calm behavior, that had probably saved them once, turned out to be a real problem. The boy suffered from some kind of neural illness. He couldn’t learn to walk until he was three, and was very reluctant to playing any toys, as if he had no idea what they were for. Since his second year the boy’s heart and lungs started failing. Eventually, one winter’s day, Vidal returned home and the doctor greeted him with the grieve news:

‘Captain Vidal… I’m very sorry to inform you, but your son… is dead.’

This wasn’t a shocker. They kept telling him there was no cure. This had to happen eventually. But he couldn’t take the news instantly. He ran, without taking off his coat, to his boy’s room and stared at his lifeless body lying in the little bed, as if he was sleeping. Two maids were weeping next to it.

His son he longed for so much… was dead.

He suddenly wished Carmen was still alive. So she could comfort him. And maybe even have another child. But she was long gone. The only person he had was Ofelia. And the only person she had was Vidal. Even if the only connection between them just died with that little boy.

Vidal’s son’s sister didn’t even want to look at the officer. They just attended the same Mass, the same funeral, the same wake. He didn’t invite too many people. Just few of his closest associates and his housekeepers, who knew the boy well. This made avoiding the girl looking very unnatural. But neither of them cared. Up until the moment he found her alone in her brother’s room, rummaging in the biggest box of toys.

‘What the Hell are you doing?!’ Vidal shouted, and pulled her forcibly away.

‘I’m looking for the book I gave him!’ she replied with tears in her eyes.

‘You gave him? All the money you have, including what you have spent on his gifts, is mine.’

‘Is that what you only care for? Money? You didn’t even love him! All you ever wanted was a perfect son who would grow just like you!’

‘How dare you…’ he clenched his fists. He wanted to hit her, but simply couldn’t move.

‘And I didn’t buy it! I’ve made it! I was looking for it, so you wouldn’t throw it away with rest of his things!’ she ran away, to the corridor, with long black dress waving behind her.

For the time he hated her even more. Vidal never even thought about throwing away any of his son’s toys. He didn’t spoil her, he was sure of that. One book every Christmas and birthday didn’t seem like too much. Nor too little. Mostly fairytales, some adventure stories. Carmen always told him her daughter loved those. Not that he approved such unrealistic literature, but he didn’t want to increase Ofelia’s dislike of him by sending her books that he preferred. Vidal didn’t care how she was brought up as long, as there were no complaints about her. And there were none.

But everything changed a month later, when he received a letter from Ofelia. It was the first letter she had ever wrote to him. At first he couldn’t even believe the writings on the envelope. He was turning it in his hands as if he was searching for some kind of counterfeit. Meanwhile he walked into his study and sat down. Then he realized it could have been some kind of declaration from her that she ran away from the school or something similar. But in the letters, he received twice a semester, her teacher always wrote that she was a bright girl, who befriended a close group of friends and enjoyed most of the classes. Such stupid decision would hurt her more than him. Vidal finally took his letter opener and used it on the envelope.

 _“Cpt. Vidal,_  
 I am writing to give You my deepest condolences.  
Before that moment, in my brother’s bedroom, I had no idea You had feelings at all. But when You shouted, Your eyes became red. And I could see tears gathering.  
Now I know You loved Your son. If You are capable of love, that is.

_Ofelia_

_PS. I really like the books. But please don’t send me any that focus mainly on romance. I know girls my age enjoy it. But those stories usually lack some proper explanation of the background world, which makes really difficult to enter it.”_

He smirked. Those were the rudest condolences he could imagine. Yet they were probably the most truthful ones he had ever received. Even if he didn’t remember what was happening with his eyes at that time.

Vidal took a piece of paper and wrote her back instantly:

 _“Ofelia,_  
I hoped Your improper behavior would be suppressed by school, but obviously I was mistaken. That’s not the way to write to a person, who pays for all of Your bills.  
As for the books I have no idea what they are focusing on. I just ask at a bookstore for something about magic and fairies that would be proper for a girl Your age. You never even took off the packing paper from any of them before now, have You?

_Cpt. Ricardo S. Vidal”_

After he had sent it, the series of letters followed. All of them were mean or rude. But undoubtedly made them closer.

‘You know I don’t care who you marry…’ major Vidal started.

‘…As long as I don’t shame you. I know, you’ve told me that this morning’ Ofelia interrupted him. ‘And what about you? Didn’t you want to have a son? Any cute widows at the ball?’ she asked jokingly and run her fingers through his hair slightly destroying the sleek hairstyle.

‘I don’t want any widows. They have children who need taking care of after their mothers’ deaths’ he finally drank from the glass on his desk. ‘Besides, who would even want to kiss me?’

In his case it wasn’t such a rhetoric question. After Mercedes cut him, he sew back himself. Even when he finally got to the hospital, they couldn’t do anything for his severed face muscles. After his mouth finally healed he had a plastic surgery to hide the scar. But even if they did what they could, all that was achieved was that he didn’t attract attention on the streets. Yet for people who talked to him face to face it was an obvious disfigurement.

Ofelia’s hands stopped massaging. She moved to his side then bent and... If she has been planning anything, she planned to just touch Vidal’s lips with hers. But that turned out to be only a start. The girl left a delicate kiss. The man didn’t oppose. He slightly pulled her chin, so he could have an entrance. As their tongues met, major realized Ofelia had no idea how to do it. He stroke her charcoal, silken hair and gently directed her head with a hand. After a second they were drinking the desire from each other’s lips.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to the collar and beneath it. He enjoyed the way from her waist to the edges of the young, virgin, round breasts.

Then it suddenly stopped. Ofelia stood up and covered her mouth with a hand. Vidal looked away just realizing what had happened.

On the one hand that was wrong. She was his late wife’s daughter, almost his step-daughter. He brought her up, from since she was ten years old. If she would find a groom, Vidal would be the one to bring her to the altar. And the age difference…

On the other hand that was obvious. They weren’t connected by blood. He never adopted Ofelia, despite Carmen’s requests. All of the common relatives they had were long gone. He was a widower and she was looking for a husband. They knew each other’s faults all too well. Yet their understanding was a relatively new development.

Vidal poured himself another glass of whisky. ‘Just… forget about it’ he said and drank.

‘I’ll… I will change and go to sleep’ she replied still uncertain what to think, yet somehow agreeing with major. ‘Good night’ Ofelia added before closing the study’s door.

Whatever this was, it was overflowing with the mutual lust.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't see Vidal as the "pure evil" type o f guy. Mostly because I know worse people, personally. Maybe not by the number of people they've killed, but how they treat people closest to them. When You think about that, he was a gentleman. I don't think he had ever hit his wife, or forced her to do something that would really harm her for no reason. He married her and even took care of her daughter. His son was the most precious thing on Earth, there was no way he could harm him.  
> Another thing is history. Franco's military regime had barely anything to do with Mussolini's fascism or Hitler's nazism. It was more about defending tradition and Church from communist militia, who often murdered whole villages. That's how the red "partisans" fought in the whole Europe. Franco's bad luck was that the Allies were friends with the Soviets at that time, so he had to ask for help some other powers. But eventually, thanks to the support from Hispanics, he ruled up to his death in '75. The Spanish monarchy had been restored, and they rule until now.  
> Through this point of view Vidal wasn't such a devil even in his professional life. Obviously, he should be executed for killing those peasants, both the way he did it and that he didn't search them properly before. But showing him as an evil character just because he fought those "partisans" i simply wrong.  
> Just think about it. And then watch the movie again :)


End file.
